Perks of Production
by thatusernamewastaken
Summary: A failed producer is hired to work at AMC's iconic tv show, The Walking Dead. He meets a Chandler Riggs and finds himself hopelessly attached to the young unexpecting boy.
1. Job Opening

Author's Thoughts: I decided to write a fanfiction, It's been a while and I had a disturbing idea to make a mini pedophile producer prey on Chandler Riggs. Because, I dunno anymore. -_- Basically this will show a short review of the character's backstory and how he got in the media industry. Flames will be made to cook the people Garreth killed. Critics are appreciated. :D

**Rating: R-18**

**There's a reason why this is rated M. If you're sensitive to these type of subjects. I recommend you leave. I can have the creepy Pedophile guy in this story escort you out.**

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><p>I think I'm going to apologize first, for two reasons.<p>

Number one: The fact I chose the acting career knowing well what I was dragging myself into. And two.

The fact that I have a sexual attraction to not adults, but young children. I felt as if becoming an actor I would be able to hide my attractions for a stable matter. Concealing my pedophilla had always been quite easy ever since I was 18, I'm close to my thirties now. And my guilt is starting to flow through the cracks of my _fake _innocent deguise. Keeping good looks and being the nice neighborhood guy was always my intention. Actually; Thinking about it I have three things I need to apologize for. Though, considering my decisions, my actions should not be forgiven.

I apologize to my family for lying for the benefit of my satisfaction. I apologize for bending the will of the young for the benefit of my satisfaction.

I'm sorry. But at the same time, I don't regret one thing either.

The following above obviously would land me one of the worst jobs in the entire planet. Managing production for TV Shows, films and media was a painful experience. I wish I could quit, but I desperately needed the money to pay for the rent, this year my asshole of a landlord has been particularly hard on me. Squeezing cash out of me as if I was some parasite. In a way, I guess that'd be true. My sexual fantasies had led me to this, this, a shitty life with shitty pay; Maybe If I hadn't spend all of that time in highschool collecting child porn I wouldn't be in this situation. But at the same time I wouldn't say that it wasn't worth it. However, as an adult. You no longer have the privilege of visiting playgrounds. I remember that 18 was one of the best years for me, I quite literally was spending the beginning of adulthood. But the best part no one questioned my actions either, I could talk to six to sixteen year old no problem. As you could imagine this changed when I got my first job, and 911 calls became a reality. I'm lucky my criminal record is squeaky clean. It wasn't anything too serious, just suspicious characteristic reports; I admit. Whenever I see a cute youngling, I fidget a bit. But I always been too much of a coward to make any interactions with them...

It was late, and when I entered my apartment and kicked off my shoes. Eager to have a long night's rest. The phone rang, at first my sleep deprived brain begged me to ignore it. I answered despite my body's cravings.

"H-Hello?" I croaked tiredly. Exhausted by the night's events. I had finally finished working on a stressful production, and was relieved that it was over already. I had gotten injuries from the sharp equipment and a light bulb blew in my face. Leaving a soft scar. I could've sued the company now that I'm recalling this events.

"Hey Vince, I just got a phone call. And you will NOT believe it."

I wiped my eyes, suddenly my sleepiness was cured by the my friend Jack who specialized in equipment setup who began the phone call in such a curious manner, I wanted to know more. I answered:

"Y-Yeah? What is it?"

"I just got a phone call from the The Walking Dead's creator, you know AMC, Robert Kirkman-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. What did he talk to you about?" I replied boredly, I hear job opportunities constantly. And thought I don't say this in person; They bore me to snores.

"Well... He offered me a job opening..." Yep, I was correct. "But I refused, I'm too busy with other projects as you know." I blinked thrice, and landed softly on my bed. Which still had stains from the previous tenants. My eyes drooped, I was so tired I replied with quiet murmurs. "So uh, I said that you might want the job..."

I shot up straight.

"I'll take it."

**| ACT 1 | JOB OPENING | COMPLETE | **


	2. Greeting

Author's Thoughts: Hello, sorry for the long wait! I'll try to update this as much as I can! Reviews help a lot! So feel free to leave one! I apologize for the lack of quality in my fanfics or if the characters seem a little OOC. I'm currently going through a hard time and its been two years since I've actually written anything! Again, so sorry. Let me know if the chaps should be longer!

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><p>Perhaps I shouldn't have been driving, due to the fact my hands were shaking as I drove to AMC's set. I pulled up in the drive through. Sitting silently in my car as I turned off the engine. I inhaled deeply; As long as I didn't slip up I'd be fine. This will go smoothly I hope.<p>

I stepped onto the pavement and immediately I was greeted with an employees smiling face, I smiled back but it faded when it was socially appropriate. We shook hands.

"Hello Vince, Nice to meet you; I'm John Schmidt. I'll lead you to the equipment. Really all you'll be doing is stockpiling props and making sure all of the actors are good to go. You know, stuff like that." He said, he was a young fellow, of college age. He was blonde and had blue eyes, so the first image that popped into mind was a golden retriever. There were trucks and vans scattered around the forest, cameras and other sorts of equipment needed to film. I caught a glimpse of the director, and another producer, they seemed to be discussing, or arguing about the lighting. However despite the crowd. I didn't see any actors.

"So, John; How would you rate the standards of the show so far?" I asked, sliding my finger up against the tripod and the stem of its outer hook. John looked at me, then at the sky; seemingly thinking. The reason why I asked is that I hadn't caught up with the TV show that much.

"Well, it depends you might not know this but there's a ton of flashbacks and stuff. So sometimes we have to pre record things for later use, that is. If they do make it to the finale." He finished my question, patted me on the shoulder and left. I nodded and began my work, taking a glance at my watch. Almost thirty minutes until filming begins.

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><p>I knew what the vans were for, of course. I wasn't a rookie. The vans were to hold the actors so they could get their makeup done and other jumbo that I didn't care much for. By the time I was done fixing the camera's inner workings. I turned around only to see people who I assume were the actors reading word for word in the script. I chuckled lowly; They looked so concentrated and relaxed while I was the exact opposite. I should've known to wear less clothes. Ah, oh well. My quiet chuckling was interrupted by a tug on my shirt. I swiftly turned my head to see who dare touch my oh so precious jacket.<p>

"Yes?"

I trailed off when I saw who had disrupted me. It was an incredibly adorable young boy, with brown hair and blue eyes. probably 14 or 15 I guessed. This caught my full attention and I turned around fully.

"What are you laughing for?" He asked, I arched my brow. Shouldn't he be with his parents or something?

"Oh, nothing much I was just thinking about something. Y-You know." I bit my lip and blinked. He seemed satisfied by my answer. But smiled.

"Alright then, sorry for troubling you. My name is Chandler" He gave me his hand. "Chandler" I whispered his name back to myself. His name rolled of my tongue perfectly. I noticed he tilted his head, thinking I wouldn't accept his hand. I quickly shook it. Staring into his eyes.

"My name is Vince, nice to meet you."

**| ACT 2 | GREETING | COMPLETE | **


	3. So Stupid

Author's Thoughts:Before I began this chapter I'll say I do not prohbit pedophilla in anyway. In fact this story is based on real victims. Sexual predators blend in with society. Looking and acting like the most normal people, and these people can be your neighbor, your friend or even a relative. If you have any knowledge on child abuse that's occurring. I suggest you call authorities. Some of my readers might think I'm a creepy pervert to write this. But I wanted to capture what a true pedophile thinks. I've read many diaries in online criminal archives just to obtain the right aura to write the thoughts of this character. Mind you, writing this is quite difficult for me. I questioned my mortality of writing down such things. this is way the chapters are so short so far. So take in mind the entertainment this fanfic serves and the fact that this stuff actually goes on. And you might not even notice it.

Thanks for reading so far! Stick along will ya?

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><p>After my encounter with Chandler yesterday I felt slightly uncomfortable. Both at the fact that I had bowed down to my predatory instincts and even dared to speak to him; But it is fairly polite to introduce yourself to anyone of any age, right? Right?<p>

However. I know now not to blame a non existent alter ego.

Chandler had smiled at me and gave me a fist bump, I was about to return it when he was called over to re-read some more of his lines; I looked away, though. I couldn't help myself to take a snap of his lower half with my eyes. Heh. A pervy mindful action indeed. He was wearing tight skinny jeans, one that young teenage boys shouldn't be wearing. I looked away and glared at the sun. Hoping that the glare wouldn't cause any problems, I wiped the camera lens for about the hundredth time. Everything was perfect. I turned around and as I peaked from one of the trees, I squeezed through the gap into the clearing where the first scene would be held. The trees loomed over the area creepily and we would have to wait a little while longer. Due to the fact that part of the episode reacquired daytime. The crew and I had already worked on half of the episode already the day before. It didn't take as long, currently quite a large amount of the scenes were flashbacks to an episode in season three, I think.

"Season four, episode sixteen." Was the phrase I repeated to myself quietly as I finally attached the last screw to the camera's holder. I wasn't a big follower of TWD, in fact I barely knew what this episode was going to be about. However the director explained to me the premise of it. That's all I needed however; Everything would be smooth sailing from her. A notice, I did catch glimpses of an attempted rape scene. I frowned at the thought. I wonder on who?

"Silence on the set!" The director's voice boomed. I bit my lip in anticipation. It was nighttime now. The crew and actors were in a clearing and I watched how Carl got into the useable truck. I think our eyes met, but only for a second.

"ACTION!"

The two actors, Andrew who played Rick and Danai who acted for Michonne. Were having a conversation. I admit, I've never see actors do such a good job before. For a second, I forget I was even behind a camera quite frankly. This lasted for several more minutes. I almost doze off. I mentally sighed, the small fragile group would be ambushed. Yada yada da. I rather be working on A Serbian Film as of right now.

"They have to have a system," Andrew or, "Rick" said; Andrew glanced at the director for a split second and the director motioned a hand gesture to both of them. The interesting part was upcoming after Michonne's line.

"I wonder if the whole thing's legit." Michonne looked at Rick when suddenly, a distant snap of branches sounded. That was the cue it seemed. The two acted as if on alert. Rick slowly advancing upwards and Michonne staring at the darkness of the woods. A eerie, simple yet nicely executed scene. My breath hitched, was... Something going to happen? My excitment died down though when Rick just sat back down on the log. I frowned, eyes glazed. Oh, suspense. No, no, I get it. A zombie show shouldn't be too paced.

"We let people in"

"We did. So did the governor."

"Yeah, it's always the same, isn't it? Don't get to know until we know." Rick waved his hand slightly, giving a psychical beam to his statement. Michonne nodded in agreement looking at the dead leaves. My eyes hit a man, another actor behind Rick. I assume this is where the attack would happen; I looked to my left to see the director counting with his fingers.

2...

"Maybe this place isn't even there anymore"

1...

Suddenly, a gun. (fake of course) was pointed to the Rick's temple.

The scene was filled to the brim with curses, tension and beatdowns; Thankfully, I didn't yawn. Breaking the flow of the hot-paced action. The character, "Joe" Had kicked Rick to the ground while Michonne (danai) attempted to win this losing battle. Seeing the hand gestures the crew were making I proceeded to film another shot, hoping to god I Ron didn't mess with the settings.

He did.

He fucking did. That moron.

I bit my lip in frustration - Now I would be getting an earful from Jack, who was a total uptight flaming flamingo pathetic piece of shit who deserved to get run over by- Wait. Character Dan, the big balding guy who's actor's name I forgot of. Pressing Chandler to the cold hard ground. Camera close to Chandler's face, he looks quite uncomfortable. I hear the camera man waving a buckle. Giving the sound effect of Dan unbuckling their pants. Holy shit, face pressed to ground; Under Mr Unbuckle. Was this the rape scene I overheard everyone talking about.

I bit my finger nail in nervousness. I didn't even know the kid, so why do I feel like going over there and bashing Mr Unbuckles face in? Again, I'm a disturbed person. I get pissed off over the smallest things. Chandler is adorable, so fragile... Why must they put him under such stress? I was thankful I didn't have to do anymore supervise anymore of the production. My balance had been broken, trust me. With every fiber of my body how come I feel such discomfort over a attempted, fake child rape when myself am a pedophile?

I don't know.

I was brought back to reality, when I unknowingly shouted "Cut!" I raised my hand in the air to gesture my halt. The actor's sighed and got in their normal positions; Some of them drinking water casually. The actor who played the man who was about to molest Chandler's character was drinking out of a fucking, water bottle.

How can he continue off stage and act so... Normal?

Of course he was just acting. But still. I'm simply happy that the man had gotten off my sweet Chandler.

"Agh, Hold on guys. What is this? It's a supposed to be a showdown not a musical dance. Andrew you're acting so normal and Jeff! "I wanna hear more craziness," Keith Brooks; whose name I know miraculously remembered now that my rage had dissipated. Our eyes met and I gritted my teeth. And rubbed my head. Feeling much calmer now, I didn't mean to come of harshly. But my tone certainly did. The some of the crew members and I started talking, about the equipment and how smoothly the scene was running so far. Our conversation ended when we heard loud, distant music from the parking lot.

"Oh great, must be teenagers having a party in a car. I'll check it out." Lisa said angrily, she was the lot manager. Former landlord rumor says. I nodded and uncrossed my arms.

"Alright, 10 minute break everyone! Good job so far" I yelled on set. "Where's Jack?" Ryan asked. I shrugged my shoulders and went down the small path to the snack table: However. I found that there was another occupant happily snacking on grapes. Geez that kid was fast, didn't even notice him squirming away from the set.

"Hey Chandler," I called out. Stepping next to him, looked at him. And he looked back with those vibrate blue eyes with his cute hat still on. He smiled, but that smile faded when it seemed socially appropriate. Of course, he would never have an intimate pleasant exchange with me.

"Hey," He said casually. I crossed my arms, and broke eye contact with him. "Do you like my acting? Or was it no good?" He asked. My eyes widen slightly'

"You were fine." Shit. Why did I say that? He glanced up at me, I think I might've hurt his feelings.

"Are you fine?" He said. I scratched my ear; "I mean like, you seemed upset by something." He asked curiously, but cautiously.

"Well, I'm not too fond about seeing stuff like that. Though, I suppose it doesn't matter what I feel. You don't feel uncomfortable in anyway, do you? I think Keith was going overboard." I crossed my arms, I said this truthfully because of my growing concern for this boy's personal space. I've seen countless of actors overcoming scenes that proved difficult to them. But never in my months and months of working in the film industry have I ever seen a mere 14 year old boy do it. It was impressive really, but slightly saddening. Despite my inner disturbed workings. My voice came across as trusting and velvety, a trait you can only achieve spending your entire life as a lying seductive scandal. Many people said I should've become a police officer with my charm. Oh how funny, if they only knew.

Reading from above, you can tell that my appearance comes off as trusting. A false trustive authoritative figure. He trusted me, and secretly I hated to obliged to this. Why was I even talking to him?

"O-of course..." He stuttered cutely. Mentally, eternally I smirked under my concerned expression. "I do love my job but..." He trailed off. Popping one more grape into hi small mouth. His curls bouncing slightly in the process, jesus. Everything about him was delicious. From the soft skin to the cherished, sculpted face and those large blue eyes. He's just too cute. Coming off as submissive; but most likely a fighter in bed...

"But?" I asked again, urging him to continue to unbottle his negative tension to me. "You don't have to talk if you don't want too, in fact. We can stop filming if you like-"

"No, no no. No need sir"

Fuck.

I think I creamed myself.

Sir huh?

"It's just, I hate the idea of that scenario happening me to real life. I'd just feel so helpless and scared." He finished. Poor boy.

"I hate that thought too." I said out loud, he looked at me. puzzled. Chandler is so mature, yet so clueless. "I really didn't like seeing you protrayed this way, I assumed you were uncomfortable; So I halted the recording. Though, I must apologize; I really should've of consulted you in some way."

"N-No! I'm really thankful. I honestly was, and I'm grateful that you considered how I felt. Thank you."

I don't know if my penis shriveled, or my heart exploded in warmth and happiness.

"Heh, no problem little dude. Your performance was incredible though, I was slightly harsh to the others I admit." I laughed rubbing the back of my head. The interruptive had stopped. I assumed Lisa had taken care of the problem. I took the final bite out of my pretzel, sucking the salt from my fingers.

"Filming probably bout' to start." I mumbled, about to walk away. "Nice talking to you, Chandler." I proceeded to walk away. When suddenly, he stopped me in my tracks by grabbing onto my hand. I turned away, slightly confused by this unexpected action.

"Hold on. Sorry, it's just." He said, letting go of my hand.

"Yes?" I said, tilting my head.

"Maybe, a-and this is only a suggestion... Maybe we can hang out sometimes?" He mumbled shyly, most likely wondering if I even wanted to have anything to do with a kid like him. I smiled, and I swear to god my demons were too.

"Sure, anytime."

I'm stupid for accepting a child's offer. So fucking stupid.

**| ACT 3 | SO STUPID | COMPLETE |**


	4. Content

Author's Thoughts: Before I begin this chapter, please consider that Vince is mentally ill. I'm going to profile his personality and behavior patterns throughout the story and leave hints to his past. Keep an eye out!

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><p>We had finally finished filming, now it was finally time for the editing team to take control. Once everything was wrapped up, I immediately left. Saying no thanks when John asked if he wanted me to come to the celebration party; He boasted on how all the adult actors were coming. I politely said no, and left. Later that night; I was slightly impressed yet so sad. I had never jerked off so much to one person before. By the time it was 2 in the morning. My love tissues were sprawled across the room in a messy manner. Panting heavily, I raised my sticky hand to see the white substance bridged from finger to finger. I groaned and wiped off the excess with a tissue. Soon throwing that to the rug below where it would be left to rot in shame. Fuck; this whole time I was thinking about Chandler, so cute and cool. Too mature for his age and not bratty, I barely even knew the kid and I was already desperately needing him. Wanting him to be in my lonely bed. His small, warm mouth. Jesus. I really wanted to bruise that potty mouth of his. Have you seen that google plus of his? Kid swears like a sailor and takes screenshots of personal text messages that his friends send him that should not be posted carelessly on the internet. I always felt the growing urge to punish him.<p>

I looked down at my once limp member. Now growing hard again.

Did I mention he has a girlfriend? Whatever the fuck her name is, one of the crew members mentioned it to me.

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><p>I feel sick, I think, at least I feel sick, or is this just the decaying feeling of sinking - giving the rippled illusion that I feel ill. Perhaps; I apologize, if I seem to ramble. Its probably because I haven't slept in the past few days, and I've been drinking my ass off at the local pub. Got in 4 bars fights in one week. That's a record, even for me.<p>

Finally, the season had for TWD reached its finale. After countless difficult weeks of production I was safe to say, exhausted. Plus in the midst of a overbearing crush. The show ended on a tragic note, mind you. And it wasn't helping to fuel my negative emotions. Sometimes I desperately wish to leave this city into a quaint little village with a variety of children to choose from. A place where the police were oblivious to my advances. But even I know that's a paradise only a monster would think of.

But it's my desire and I rather be this way then anything else, so fuck you if you think otherwise. I knew it was only a matter of time before I snapped.

Happy new years, by the way. I wonder how many years I have left until I'm behind bars. 4 is my guess. I always felt like once you hit a jail, its all over from there.

-PRESENT DAY!-

_PRESENT TIME?_

I think I was pondering too hard over which product I should purchase. I thought to myself as I tilted my head backwards and pinched my nose. I've been trying for the longest time to get on a healthy diet. Though I couldn't resist the temptations:

I shamelessly threw the packs of sugar coated cereal that was misleading to parents. It appeared healthy, when really it was diabetes in a box.

"Oh sweet you have K.I.D.s?" A surprised voice from a college student sounded from behind me. I turned towards him, arching my brow.

"Y-Yes? That's right." I said, waving my newest edition of the K.I.D.s.

K.I.D.s was a mobile device that did the same commands and inner interferences as your average IPHONE, however it analyzes your every move. For example, If I bumped into someone and that certain someone stole one of my belongings. I would be alerted right away. You could do many other things with it of course, such as checking your home security. Though teenagers tended to exploit it for other purposes, it had been gifted to me by an anonymous sender in my mailbox. To this day, I haven't really found any need for it only to check if any of my credit information had been stolen. That kind of stuff.

"Wow, is that the newest one too?"

"Yeah, limited edition."

"So... How does it work? Can I try?" He reached his hands out but I put my K.I.D.s back into my pocket in protest.

"Sorry, kid. Don't you have someone else to bother?" I spat, coming off as more angry than I expected.

Pause.

Wait.

Is this really my voice?

Of course it is. Vince is Vince, and I'm me.

In a second I forgotten about the world, this society. I had closed my reality remorselessly, but with no gestures or second thoughts. I blinked once, then twice. And before I even realized it the curious teen had been long gone. And the store announcement revealed that the store would be closing soon.

I fucking blinked again.

Woah, did I really stand here blankly for an hour and a half? No. It felt like a second, I reached in my pocket. And felt nothing.

Oh shit, that fucker stole my shit. After overcoming the realization of the thief, I sighed. Knowing full well I could track him down and alert authorities. I looked down at my shopping cart, slightly baffled by the strange time phenomena.

"Come on, the store is about to close. Let's hurry up alright?"

"Alright, alright. What do we need? We ran out of chips you know."

A woman's and a familiar voice rang out from the entrance of the supermarket. A familiar voice that belonged to a young boy... It couldn't be? I peaked my head around the racks aligned with a variety of snacks down the alley. To see... No way! That was chandler! Shit. Should I say hello? No, the woman next to him was obviously his mother.

"Wait, Vince?" Before I could make it to the peak of my decision. Chandler at already seen me and was hopefully, pleasantly surprised. I suddenly recalled on how he asked if he ever wanted to "hang out" and his mother was right there. So, if I truly wanted to be close to Chandler I would have to leave a good impression on his mother.

"Oh, hello Chandler. I didn't expect you to be here." I calmly said, I shared a glance with his mother who was clearly puzzled with who I was. I reached my hand out towards her, gesturing for a handshake she graciously returned. I smiled.

"Hello, I'm assuming your Chandler's mother. My name is Vince Martinez. I work on production management for The Walking Dead," The mother smiled and touched her face lightly. My guess she was embarrassed on how she first doubted my knowledge of her son. We both exchanged pleasantries and Chandler was obviously bored of our discussion that revolved around my job and Chandler. I admired on her pride of her son's talent. During this time, Chandler's mother had been throwing various items into her shopping cart. It was socially appropriate to go our separate ways, and I was satisfied that I had clearly pleased Chandler's mother: Not discontent in the slightest.

"Oh, well I'm glad we ran into each other." She chuckled, she was a wonderful parent indeed. I look at Chandler and ruffled his hair.

"I swear, you're getting taller every time I see you." I laughed, I eternally commented on how soft his hair was.

"Heh, thanks Vince. Mom, me and Vince should hang out sometime." Chandler asked.

"Vince and I," I correct him quickly, and Chandler pouted at me and crossed his arms jokingly. "Though, that wouldn't sound like a bad idea, kiddo. You're parents and I could have dinner sometimes."

"That sounds great!" His mother agreed. And my smile began to grow, this was it. This was the beginning of what would be a string of advantages. I was sucessful into tricking Chandler's mother into trusting me. Chandler's mother and I exchanged contact details for future plans, and Chandler pulled me into a hug. I had to contain myself from not grabbing his waist. Though, I felt a warmth engulf my chest and I felt my pants tighten with delight.

I slept that night, content.

**| ACT 4 | CONTENT | COMPLETE |**


	5. Weird

Author's Thought's: Yellow there nutters! My apologies for not uploading that much recently, I haven't been feeling very encouraged, but your reviews help me keep on going! Thank you, thank you thank you! If you can only take a second of your time to write up a comment for this story, whether be it negative or positive, it encourages me to continue with this story, once again; Thank you. I'm awfully guilty that I can't return your help, but I appreciate it dearly. Thank you. The only way I know how to thank you guys for the support is to add some smut to this chap. ;)

+Also thanks for /b/ for fucked up ideas for this chapter, seriously guys, fuck you this gave me nightmares. Also, its really awkward for me to even type the name "Chandler" because my bestfriend's name is Chandler. So whenever I look at him... You get the picture, but I think I might be going gay for him, lol.

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><p>I always packed rope in my closet just in case, I just didn't know it would be this handy; somewhere inside of me was saying no, but my body was saying otherwise. I recoiled in horror as soon as I slipped from my trance and what I saw before me; Chandler, my darling laid bloody and beaten on my bed, the sheets soaked with crimson and urine, jesus, fuck.<p>

What have I done?

I thought I said that, but only choked moans of frustration escaped from my mouth. I noticed I was painfully constricted in my jeans, I kneeled on the bed and Chandler scurried in fear, attempting to run from me, suddenly, a primal instinct gripped every fiber of my being, and I felt a wave of arousal wash over me, I was _fucking_ horny, more hornier then all of my life: The only thing bruising my mind was, fuck, fuck, kill.

Every sense of the world and good all left me, only leaving a empty husk of someone who could've been someone, I'm a monster, and I've come to the conclusion that I need to do what a monster does. I only had the need to satisfy myself, not care for others.

I unzip my jeans hastily and pulled my throbbing dick out tapping it lightly Chandler's cock that had a rope tied around it, preventing him from climax. He whimpered, and cried even harder. Tears running down his face. I leaned forward and licked the tears hungrily. Slowly, I licked from the top of Chandler's tied hands all the way to his armpits, to his shoulder. There I bit hard, so hard my teeth now sharp dug into his flesh. An ear-shattering scream emitted from his mouth and I grinned ear to ear, and I do not exaggerate when I say that. I cleaned up the blood by licking the wound, a shallow but pleasant taste in my mouth linger.

It wasn't disturbing knowing the fact I was raping an underage, inexperienced boy, not the fact that I lost all control, not that fact that I was a disease on the earth that needed to be tortured and destroyed, but the fact that throughout this ordeal. I didn't feel anything, no emotions, no guilt, no nothing.

I began to pant as my open wide mouth neared his eye, as soon as my wet mouth had contact with his face. His sobbing suddenly stopped, he realized what I: An adult, suppose to protect and care for a child, was about to do. I wrapped my lips around his eye, his eyelids pulling back. And I sucked _hard._

I felt a warm round object breach my mouth, and I slowly pulled my face away from his panicked, hyperventilation overwhelming him. I made the distance between us longer and longer, until his optic nerve couldn't go any further. I savored the taste of the beautiful colored part of Chandler in my mouth, everything about him was delicious and I needed more. I was _hungry._

For a few seconds it was completely quiet, deathly silent.

So it made it even louder when Chandler screamed in agony and terror when I bit hard on his eyeball. Fluids that only tasted of my sweet Chandler filled my mouth, and I swallowed hungrily.

"W-Why!?" He screeched in pain, wiggling in his restraints. In a pathetic attempt for escape.

"Why?" I said emotionlessly, slightly surprised. I hadn't heard my voice for this entire afternoon.

"Because, your such a tease." I smiled.

I awoke abruptly in a cold sweat, my sheets soaked. I breathed heavily and took a few moments to recollect myself, it had only been a dream, no a nightmare. I recalled the events and shivered, disturbed on what my mind could conjure in the dark corners of my mentality. I rationalized that it had only been natural, caused by the stress of work and guilt.

But I knew that this was just wishful thinking.

After my awakening I couldn't fall asleep, so I spent my time researching psychological documents on child predators. Their views, mindset, lifestyle, etc, etc. After hour of reading, I was barely conscious; memorizing the vivid details of stories of victims and rapists. Processing an array of activities, despite this wide knowledge of tales. Even with all of my efforts, I couldn't find the cure for my_ illness. _

I finally came to the conclusion that what I'm into is not ok, not right at all. All I wanted now is a normal life, get a better job, get a wife, gets kids...

Kids...

They were the embodiment of my deepest darkest fantasies, the innocent hearts of young bodies is what I thrived on. Deeply, from the beginning I first discovered my dick when I was 7 years old, all the way to the fact when I was 16 when I had drooled over the neighbor's daughter, I knew I had a problem, was a problem, is a problem.

I was a disgrace to the human race, absolutely disgusting and with a lack of empathy. The fact that I, had a dream about a simple boy like that is appalling and parents would receive the greatest amount of distress and disgust if they even saw my face. I'm sick. I wish I was just dead already, and if I knew, without a shadow of a doubt that if I continued this behavioral pattern. I would eventually snap.

Even though I have, rope in my closet and knew how to hang myself. I didn't do it.

You know why?

Because right when I pulled the rope suitable for a hanging out of my closet, the phone rang. I froze, chilled crawling up my spine, my eyes widening and my muscles tense I slowly turned my head towards the phone.

Daylight should've flooded the rooms by now, however. Winter is a ghastly grasp on light. The apartment was still eerily, and utterly filled with darkness.

It felt like at any moment, the shadows could creep up on me and slaughter me, a creepy thought indeed. But if that were to happen, I would deserve it. nuff said.

I walked towards the phone hesitantly, scanning the room for any movement in the shadows. I picked up the phone and waited for a few seconds, hearing nothing but background noise on the other line of the mysterious caller.

"I want to be free of this!" An irritated voice spat from the phone.

"Who is this?" I asked, I meant my voice to come out as harsh, but it mostly came out as a squeak.

"Who's this? Fuck you man, you trapped me in this, I'm stuck here because of you! How come you get the privilege of exploring a normal life you fuck? You prick, your being repulses me alone!" He continued, sounding more and more angered by the second. Before I could say anything else, he hung up.

Was angry stranger's call a grumpy man calling the wrong phone number? Though, he sounded awfully familiar.

The next morning was hazy, and discontent. And it was made worse when I found out that at the time when I receive the call my phone was actually unplugged.


End file.
